Turning in
by SomecallmeMichelle
Summary: As Shego spends her hours in the cold, damp cell, with nothing but her thoughts to soothe her, she begins to analyse seemingly random pieces of her past, and what led to her position now. Inspired by Iapsa.


Normally little girls are perfectly delusional, their diluted imagination filling in the blanks. It's a story as common as it is boring and predictable.

"When I'm older I'm going to marry a prince" 

"Well yeah? I'm going have a unicorn!"

"I'm going to have 5 kids, and they'll be pretty"

Yeah, stuff like that. Friends, boyfriends, popularity, those are the desires of the common girl, and what she envisions herself with, when she's 16 or even (and add a fake gasp of sarcasm here) 17.

That future? A bunch of crap, probably the biggest load of bollocks I've ever heard. I too was conditioned in believing that. Cartoons for little girls, Disney movies and the likes showing it, but, despite the way they showed it like a incontestable truth, somehow something everything gets on and receives, the only option. But that's bull crap, and I know it.

There are options, and while nobody expects to go through the less pretty ones (and I wouldn't go back and do them again, but they exist, ready to pry on someone who's naive, who is wishing for something more.

At the time, of course, I took them as a breath of fresh air, as a way to rebel, my goody good brothers were always doing good leaving to try and overcompensate with evil, no, it doesn't make sense, even then, it didn't, but I was a fool.

I 'm sorry...

But it's far too late.

Yes, I have some education, a degree. Not even I thought I'd have the patient to hold on enough to take it. It'd technically give me a chance to land a job at any Midwestern high school, I randomly chose to apply for. But, being who I am, who would employ me?

Out in the distance I hear some noise, I presume it's someone, trained in dealing with people like me, to come and talk to me, maybe strike me a deal. I don't want a deal, and after the way they treated me, I don't know what I want.

I've been here doing nothing for hours, and though I'm certain someone is staring at me at this exact moment, no one came to my level and talked to me.

I ask myself – "What are they waiting for? Are they waiting I go mad in this lone cell?" – Though I don't see any obvious cameras, I'm sure they're there somewhere, a guilty pleasure of mine, crime dramas on tv, taught me that there is always one or two pointed at the villain.

And that's what I turned into, a villain, pretty much everywhere, I sigh as I push my legs across the reinforced floor, so no one could dig underneath it. Millimeter one, millimeter two, but no one comes, even if I keep doing the calming exercise.

All I can do is go way back, on my own memories , and that's what I do, memories popping in and out.

No "Ifs", "Buts" or "Us", I decided to leave, and there is no way I'm going to stay trapped in this heck of a place that is my house. My brothers have this look on their faces, it looks like they're about to cry, but it doesn't affect me much.

They are being idiotic. Don't they realize there's nothing for me here, or my life will lack anything of value if I stay?

I dumbly thought of stopping there and hang around, for a month, or a year, or forever, but then rage took over and I left, making sure to let the door hit and make a ruckus.

I had sort of a tough life from there on, I fought for the lowest scrapes of what civilization would leave to rot, trash basically, it was pathetic really.

I still had the choice of coming back, but pride kept me from it, I was not going to go with the tail between my legs and apologize.

If only...

Those were my two main options, apologize and come back, or keep on fighting...but I took a third one.

I had certain...talents, talents that made me a pretty good fighter, and a tough adversary, years of fighting, for survival, and for the fun of it, had made sure that I was...

It had been awful...

My mind jumps from memory to memory, so many moments, so many shots, so many opportunities...

I had so many chances of giving myself in, so...why now?

Maybe I'm crazy, or unstable, but I feel no regrets for what I did. What happened, happened, it's in the past. I'm fairly certain I hurt of worsened the life of many people, but I can't do a thing about it now.

I said earlier I'm sorry, but how can I be sorry if I don' t regret it? It's simple, I don't regret the pain and material worth of damage, I caused.

I regret having been caught...

Do I sound like a psychopath? Probably, and I know about them, I studied them, not feeling any emotions would be so great, wonderful...

But no matter how much I go lower and lower in the morality scale, there's still that tad of humanity in me, something I can't get rid of.

I look at all those people who keep their private lives and their work separate, and smile, and spend time with kids and brides, and they look happy...and sometimes I feel jealous.

Because that's something I'm never going to have.

But I suffer, I suffer now and I suffered then, but I decided not to pretend anymore, not to keep my glass smile and lifeless eyes.

I have the degree, for what it serves me, and truth be told, probably nothing.

But better stuck in a cell for 23 hours a day, than constantly running away.

At least I won't have to be tired...

Despite the way I keep having second thoughts, there's not much I can do, now that I offered my wrists to the handcuffs.

I keep hearing more and more noise outside and I wonder – "How much time" – How much will I get?

Though in the end does it matter? I'll probably never be free.

Not with my record-

I could escape, I'd just use my hands and...

Right, I remember that I'm being watched, I put them on my lap again.

My name, my age, my local of birth, small things I remember, those I can keep.

Then the door opens and it isn't a psychologist there, but Drakken, who puffs and tells me to hurry up

So I guess it's not today, but who knows, one of those days? 

I won't run anymore.

The end

**Author's notes: While this is my 3****rd**** Kp fanfic, it's the first one I actually had trouble writing it, due do the way nobody has her personality set in stone, the character, whoever she is (though it should be obvious) has many different sides to her.**

**This is also kind of my attempt at shamelessly doing what Iapsa (someone with whom I've had many a conversation) did with Eletronique...of course Shego is much more well defined in terms of past.**

**Still, I hope you enjoyed the reading, and as always, a review is always appreciated.  
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